


"are you okay?"

by littlemissvincentvega



Category: Ghost World (2001)
Genre: F/M, Hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissvincentvega/pseuds/littlemissvincentvega





	"are you okay?"

“I don’t like salad. Or eye contact.” the man across from you mutters in response. You glance at the clock - 4.48pm - your shift is over in 12 minutes. 

“I can tell. The only time you’ve looked at me is when I look away from you.” 

He shuffles on the stool uncomfortably. “Sorry.”

“Aren’t you gonna drink that?”

“Well I– yeah, but I can’t drink it if you’re watching me..” he says awkwardly.

“Oh, sorry.” you smile apologetically, making sure to focus on wiping the bar. You can feel him watching you as he hesitantly sips on his beer. “Can I get you anything else? We close at 5.”

“I could use a will to live.”

You look up at him and smile. “Don’t say that!”

“It’s just a joke.”

“There’s truth in every joke, you know.”

He pauses, looking you in the eyes for a few seconds before realising what he’s doing and directing his gaze to the glass. You look at his eyes - though you two are just a few feet apart, he seems miles away. “Are you okay?” you ask, concerned.

He nods half-heartedly, pushing the glass away from him slightly. “I’d better get going. I uh, don’t wanna delay you in closing.”

You lean over and look in the glass, sensing his eyes flick from your body and back to your face. “You haven’t finished your drink yet.” you say. “Come on, stay and finish it. Tell me your name. It’s nice having someone to speak to at work.” You give him a reassuring smile.

“You don’t have to pretend to be interested in talking to me.. I-I really should go. And it’s Seymour.”

“No! No, Seymour - I’m not pretending,” you lock eyes with him, “I promise.” He flinches at the sound of you saying his name. It feels like he isn’t used to being addressed by a lady. “Honestly, wait for me to finish my shift, we can go for a walk or something.”

He seems taken aback. “Uh, okay–” he squints at your name tag, “–(Y/N).”

You smile and push the glass back towards him. A comfortable silence accompanies you both over the next 10 minutes as you clear up and he quietly sups his drink, glancing at you every few seconds.

“You done with that?” you ask, gesturing with your head to the empty glass. Seymour nods, and you take it from him. “I’ll be back in a minute - don’t leave, okay?” You disappear into the kitchen to rinse the glass, returning as quickly as you can to find the anxious man standing by the door twiddling his thumbs and looking rather lost. 

“Don’t worry, my boss will lock up for the night.” you say, holding the door open for him. 

He shuffles out of the door. “Thanks.” You observe his clothes - a baggy, brown flannel shirt scruffily tucked into even baggier and even browner trousers… it almost looks like he’s being swallowed by his outfit. Closing the door behind you, the two of you walk side by side. You shiver slightly, feeling the winter chill seep through the sleeves of your coat. 

“I don’t know when it started getting so dark so quick.” you say, looking up at the sky and back at him. He looks withdrawn. “Seymour?”

He looks at you, momentarily startled. “Hm? Oh-I– sorry, (Y/N)..”

You grab his arm gently and stop walking. He flinches at your touch. “Look at me, Seymour.”

He looks you in the eye cautiously. “Why?”

“Are you okay?”

“Look, if I’d have known I’d be pressured by an– an attractive young lady into opening up, I wouldn’t have left my apartment tonight.”

Your cheeks flush slightly at ‘attractive’, although seeing the hopeless look in his eyes makes your heart sink for him even deeper. “I’m sorry, I need to go. I-I need to go home.” he says woefully, avoiding your gaze and starting to walk away.

You scuttle after him, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “Seymour, please.”

He sighs and looks down at you. “What?”

You pull him into a hug, wrapping your hands around his waist. He moves his arms stiffly around you, and you tighten your grip around him. As you lean your head on his chest, listening to his soft heartbeat, you feel his arms begin to relax. He rests his head on yours and moves his right hand behind your head, stroking it with his thumb. You can sense how long he has yearned for this kind of affection, a gentle warmth being shared between you both.

“Are you okay?” you whisper.

“Yeah.”


End file.
